


Estranged

by lezzerlee



Category: Inception (2010), Sergeant Slaughter - My Big Brother
Genre: Brothers, Dysfunctional Family, Homophobia, Leaving Home, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 23:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lezzerlee/pseuds/lezzerlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith hadn’t seen nor heard from his brother in ten years.</p><p>Eames brings Arthur to visit his family. A family who only knew him as an angry, violent, confused young man. Eames has to face his father and the scrutiny he’s always felt for being gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Estranged

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written from an outsider POV to the relationship. It's from Keith's view.
> 
> Thank you to [Torra](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Torra/pseuds/Torra) for helping me brainstorm, and [Asya_Ana](http://asya-ana.livejournal.com/) for the beta!

Keith grumbled as he tried not to tip over the stack of yard tools to pull a shovel free. There was rust on the screws, but it seemed sturdy enough. There was just under a meter of fresh snowfall from the morning, but nobody had anywhere to go, no errands to run, so Keith hadn’t bothered. But now it was afternoon. The sun was bright and the weather had warmed up enough that he knew that he should clear the walk before the pile of snow turned to a pile of ice.

The neighborhood was quiet and Keith wasn’t used to it anymore. Without the noisy bustle of London, he was left with thoughts that the monotonous scrape of the shovel couldn’t drown out. His mind kept wandering back to Jackie and he kept thinking, _if only he’d listened more, spent more time with her, then he could be introducing her to the family instead of sulking._

Keith was home for Holidays like he was every year. He was dreading the barrage of questions his mum would once again ask about why he _hadn’t found a nice young lady yet,_ and _whenever was she going to be a grandmum at this rate?_ His dad never rescued him from these conversations, always sitting aside and listening. He realized a long while ago that his father only spoke when he felt it necessary to make a point. It made him predictable. Keith could quote word for word his father’s favorite phrases, comments that had pissed his brother Dan off to no end.

He didn’t mind his mum’s nagging that much, because she cared was all. He just hadn’t found the right girl yet. He’d thought maybe he had this time, but he’d buggered it all to hell. He never was good with girls. He’d always been somewhat of a late bloomer. It had taken him until he was seventeen to stop getting picked on like a grade-schooler.

He remembered the day he finally stood up for himself vividly. It was the day Dan left, to be precise. He’d run into his childhood enemy and didn’t have his big brother to fight his battles for him. He was going to run away from the fight, had started to, but then it had hit him: he had to decide what direction to take his life in, whether to always run from his problems, or face them head-on. And while he might have gained some confidence that day by standing up for himself, it didn't bleed into all aspects of his life. Dating as an adult felt hopeless sometimes.

He wished Dan were here, to tell him how to get a girl. Every time Keith came home he thought about his brother. He couldn’t help it, he supposed. There were memories lurking in every corner of this house, of this neighborhood, of this town.

Keith hadn’t seen nor heard from Dan in ten years. Dan had said he’d been going skiing, but he lied. His mum worried. She didn’t understand. She kept asking why he had left his salopettes and his boots behind. It had taken her nearly a week to realize that he really wasn’t coming back. His dad had said nothing. Keith had known the moment he had awoken and walked into his brother’s empty bedroom. He had taken in the clothes strewn over the bed, the half-complete clay sculptures on the desk and magazine tear-outs of weaponry on the walls. He had known that Dan wouldn’t be coming back.

Keith had looked up to Dan. Dan had been confident, and talented, and a little insane. And Dan wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but Dan protected him. Dan loved him.

Dan struggled just as much as he had trying to find the fortitude to escape this boring, little town.

And they both escaped: Dan, presumably, off to the French Foreign Legion, Keith graduating with decent-enough marks and getting a fine job. It was nothing spectacular, but he enjoyed it. And he came home for holidays every year because his mum needed someone to be there for the tradition.

Part of that tradition was begrudgingly clearing the drive. His fingers were cold, even with his gloves, but the work had made sweat start to bead on the back of his neck. He could feel his lips chapping and was complaining under his breath.

Then suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw the impossible. He thought he was maybe hallucinating at first, an overactive imagination as he was lost in memories and self-loathing. But then he recognized the figure walking up the drive.

Dan had returned.

Keith could see that he was lacking the second hand Beret, the surplus military drab, and the familiar, tightly wound anger that had defined him before. Instead, Dan was in a thick, green pea coat with a bright, burnt-orange beanie on his head. Keith watched as his brother trudged through the snow, taking in his relaxed shoulders and lopsided smile.

Really, he hadn’t been expecting _this_ at all. The last thing Keith had been expecting, as he shoveled the walk of his parents' house, was to see his now thirty-two-year-old brother walking up the street holding hands with another man. Keith couldn’t even speak when he saw him. He just stopped with the shovel still in his hands as he grinned like an idiot and his big brother grinned right back, same crooked teeth and all. Then in flash he was on his back, heavy, muscled weight pinning him down and his hair ruffled without mercy. He couldn’t help but laugh, because here he was again, just like when he was seventeen, with his brother wrestling him down into the snow, but this time without the sharp edge of anger.

After a moment, he was released and Dan popped up, dusting the snow from his knees. He extended his hand out and Keith let himself be helped up. He brushed himself off as well, bending down to retrieve his displaced hat. For a second, all they could do was smile at each other because Dan was home and it almost felt like he had never left.

Keith heard someone clear his throat expectantly. And then he remembered that his brother had walked up the drive with an extremely well-dressed, dark-haired man in tow. “Eames, are you going to introduce me?” the man asked.

With a stupid grin still plastered across his face, Dan introduced him. “Keith, I’d like you to meet Arthur. Arthur, _this_ is my little brother Keith.” Dan’s voice was the same, if a bit softer. But it settled like a nesting bird in Keith’s stomach, something coming home and filling in the hole that it had left.

Keith shook himself out of his thoughts and clasped Arthur’s gloved-hand politely. He still didn’t quite understand what was going on, or who the man was. When Keith let Arthur’s hand go, Dan reached out to grab it, winding his fingers through Arthur’s as they stood in the snow. Keith only had a moment to wonder if Dan was gay, and if Arthur was his boyfriend, and what were mum and dad going to think? Before that line of thought could continue, he heard the front door open behind him.

“Daniel?” His mum gasped quietly, sounding as if she was not quite sure of what she was seeing. Keith turned and saw her standing in the door frame, dark blue sweater and no shoes on, with her hands cupped over her mouth. For a moment, he thought she was going to collapse, but then she was out the door, ignoring the cold of the snow that had to have been soaking through her socks, and wrapping Dan into a fierce hug. She was tiny next to Dan, but she had always had a way of making him look like a little kid somehow.

Dan lifted her off the snow with a tight embrace, closing his eyes as he buried his face into her shoulder. “Mum,” he said softly.

From the corner of his eye, Keith saw his dad appear in the doorway, standing with arms crossed, an impassive look on his face. He was also in his socks. Dan put mum down in the snow gently, then they made their way towards the house. Keith took one of her hands as she steadied the other on Dan’s shoulder. Arthur followed behind.

When they reached the top of the steps his dad didn’t move, blocking the entrance. He stood, challenging Dan with an icy, accusing stare. Keith felt his mum clutch his hand more tightly.

The standoff only lasted for a second before his dad cracked and patted Dan on the shoulder. Dan looked down at the hand placed on him, then glanced up through his eyelashes warily. Keith didn’t see any malice in his dad’s expression, and Dan must have seen the same.

Dan gave him a sheepish smile and their dad wrapped his arm around Dan’s shoulders, ushering everyone into the warm house. Keith let everyone pass before shutting the door quietly. He took Dan and Arthur’s coats to hang up in the closet, his mum telling everyone that they were, “Just in time for dinner.”

It wasn’t true. It was only four in the afternoon, but his mum was being motherly and a good host, slipping back into a care-taking role she hadn’t really had to play in a very long time. She floated around the kitchen to prepare a meal while the men sat down at the table. It was like a cliché, fifties time warp, but that was only because Keith was too interested in finding out everything he could about Dan’s life for the last ten years to help his mum out. She didn’t seem to mind by the way she kept coming over and touching Dan’s arm, as if he’d dissolve into atoms if she didn’t reaffirm his existence by offering to get him a drink or a snack. Dan kept waving her off, assuring her that he was fine and laughing every time she couldn’t hold back a hug.

Keith had known that Dan wasn’t dead or anything like that. Well, not really _known_ : he had hoped that no one coming to deliver bad news or have them identify a body meant that Dan was still alive and well. If Dan had been in the Foreign Legion, then surely they would have been notified if anything had gone wrong.

Arthur sat quietly near Dan, and Keith watched his father take notice of their proximity. Their shoulders were practically rubbing together. He expected his father to disapprove, but his dad said nothing. He just popped a few almonds into his mouth from the bowl on the table. Dan did the same. They both had the same nervous tick manifesting in an acute oral fixation, though Dan used to prefer gum. Mum still kept a box of mint-flavored toothpicks in the junk drawer.

It was his mum who asked first as she stirred a marinade on the stove. “So, Arthur, how do you know Dan?”

It was a perfectly innocent question, really, except that all of them knew that it wasn’t. Arthur smiled, a mixture of something fond and something wry, his eyes crinkling at the edges and dimples pocking his cheeks. He didn’t so much as glance at Dan for approval before speaking.

“We work together,” he said plainly. But then he took Dan’s hand in his and continued. “We’ve also been together for about three years now.”

His dad stopped chewing, but he still said nothing. Keith didn’t think he had any appropriate alliterative quotes or adages in his catalogue for _my son is gay_. It was surprising because Keith’s dad, a former military man, was always touting the benefits of being strong, tough and manly. Keith had to deal with living up to his father’s expectations his entire life. He hadn’t really succeeded, but he’d long since given up caring if he was not masculine enough in his father’s eyes.

His mum, bless, didn’t miss a beat. “Danny, three years? And not once you call to tell me the good news?” she said as she pulled both Dan and Arthur into her arms.

Dan’s slightly nervous face broke out into a giant grin. Ten years they hadn’t seen his smile and now it was like the walls of the room had fallen away to let the sunshine in. All of the tension in the room bled out and they all fell back into it again, the easy conversation that could only be had with a family that had always known that they loved each other no matter what.

Everyone was surprised by how calm Dan was, how fluid he seemed now. It was as if the world had been lifted off his shoulders and all the anger that he had held so close to the surface had burned off, evaporated into the air. He was tan, more scruffy than ever, and was dressed like some kind of strange schoolteacher—tweed jacket with elbow patches and all—which was disarming to say the least. He joked good naturedly, telling them about a life they’d had no idea he’d been living.

Apparently he and Arthur worked in shared dreams. Keith had only heard a little about the technology; something about how you can dream with other people, science fiction stuff like walking in people’s minds, data mining, therapy. But that’s not the side Dan was in, or so he said. He worked for corporations: espionage.

Keith thought that it was very like Dan to go head first into the dangerous side of whatever he was involved with at the time. He could only imagine the damage Dan could do inside someone’s head.

Dan was only in the Foreign Legion for a short time, Keith learned, before he was recruited out for Project Somnacin. According to Dan, men escaping something, without families or ties, or those with muddied pasts were perfect subjects for the experiments. It stung a little that Dan considered himself without ties, but Keith enjoyed hearing that Dan did exceptionally well at something more than fighting.

It wasn’t surprising to Keith at all. He’d known that Dan was brilliant, too brilliant. Dan learned French without taking a single class. He learned it simply because he’d had a goal. Dan knew how to work other people to get what he wanted using intimidation mostly, but he was very clever at persuasion of all sorts when he wanted to be. But Keith knew Dan had no future in this town, not with art, not with the military, not with anything. To be successful, he’d have to leave. Keith took a little pride in being the last straw, pushing Dan over the edge to actually get out, join the Legion and a take a real step towards his goals.

He’d missed his brother, but all through school he couldn’t help thinking that Dan was off doing something better, and that soon he’d be doing the same.

Arthur. Arthur was interesting. Arthur seemed to center Eames, to balance him. He came across as calculating and severe by nature, and Keith could tell that he was dangerous. But his laugh was easy, his smile bright. His presence was strong and commanding, and Keith liked him, if only because Dan was clearly very in love.

Keith could tell in the way Dan leaned into Arthur’s space, in the way that he touched him constantly in small, comforting ways. Whenever Arthur was speaking, Dan would look at him fondly. Dan was still taking in his surroundings, probably looking for all the changes made to the house over the years. Keith knew that his mom had more gray hair, and that both of his parents had more wrinkles, but he’d seen the changes happen gradually. He wondered how different they all must look to Dan after so much time. But no matter how curious Dan was, his eyes always circled back to Arthur.

Arthur was one-hundred percent the opposite of the chaotic, uncontrolled person Dan had once been.

He was a walking contradiction. Everything about the way he talked was warm, friendly, and humored. He had a sly smirk that never left his face. But Arthur was all clad in sharp lines and tailoring. His look screamed professional, efficient, not to be messed with. There was a severity to him that snuck out in the way he moved or how he said things that made Keith wonder how dangerous their work really was.

His ease with the casual conversation was only marred by the sheer amount of detail he knew about the family. It was as if he retained every little piece of information Dan had ever told him about them, or like he’d researched them before arriving. Keith found it a little disconcerting, but Arthur was pleasant enough, and very polite.

As dinner died down the awkwardness of Dan and Arthur’s arrival finally hit. Mum had converted Keith’s room into an office years ago. Whenever he stayed he slept in Dan’s old room. His bags were already beside the bed, in fact.

“Oh dear. I don’t have a room for you boys to stay in,” she said dismayed.

“It’s fine,” Arthur replied, “I’ve booked a room at an inn.”

“No,” Keith’s father commanded. All eyes abruptly turned to him. They’d barely heard a word from Keith’s father all night, not that he wasn’t a quiet man anyway. “It’s been ten years, I’m not having Dan leave this house in the night again. Who knows when he’ll come back the next time?”

“I’m not going to take off after just arriving,” Dan said, offended.

“I don’t care,” their father replied. They stared each other down, but not with hostility. Both of them were silently picking each other apart, communicating with the tiny flinches on their faces and the play of nervous tongues over teeth.

Keith broke in with a solution. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he offered. “They can take Dan’s room.”

“That would be wonderful,” Arthur said quickly. Dan gave a nod.

Dan excused himself from the table. Arthur followed and they headed outside to retrieve their bags from their car up the block. When they returned with their luggage, Dan led Arthur upstairs to his old room. His mum wasn’t like those mums who had lost their children and kept things exactly as they were to preserve memory, but the room is fairly unchanged. Keith knew that she just hadn’t had it in her to sort through the things she thought Dan might want to claim again if he came back someday. She never bothered getting rid of anything, though Keith knew she could have. Dan’s military netting, charts and maps still hung on the wall. His long since dried out sculptures were still scattered about the room.

Keith followed them upstairs to get his own bag and move it down to the closet near the den. When he came into the room, Dan was sitting on the bed. Arthur was standing, hands in his trouser pockets, looking around the room with interest.

Dan chewed on a fingernail, giving Keith a glance. Keith picked up his bag and paused when Arthur spoke.

“This is so _you_ , Eames.” Arthur pulled a hand out of his pocket to stroke over a sculpture fondly. He turned to Keith, “Your brother once forged a perfect Cézanne for a heist in Austria.”

Keith didn’t have anything to say to that. He glanced at Dan who looked a bit miffed at the disclosure.

“Oh, he’s your brother, I hardly think he’s going to turn you in,” Arthur laughed at Dan’s incredulous expression. He continued, “We barely made it out of that one, Eames had to shoot out a guy’s tires. They never did realize that the painting had been replaced. Thought they caught us before we could take it.”

Dan gave Keith a little wink which made Keith smirk.

“So you’re a thief now, yeah?” he asked, but it was rhetorical. “Don’t tell mum.” He clasped his hand over Dan’s shoulder before slipping out the door to give the two men some privacy, knowing the day had been a bit overwhelming for everyone.

It was nice to hear that Dan’s room still fit him. Keith had wondered if Dan would abandon his art when he’d left for the Legion. Something about him being a hard military man and a refined artist didn’t mesh in his mind. But it seemed Dan found a way to make it work. _A very illegal way,_ Keith thought, but it suited him.

Keith settled in on the couch, pulling a throw over himself before nodding off. He couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. Dan was home. Dan was... gay. But Keith was happy for him. Dan had found balance. Keith wanted to know more about Arthur. He wanted to know why he kept calling Dan, _Eames._

They would have a lot more to talk about in the morning.

***

Keith blinked blearily, struggling to keep his eyes open even after wiping the sleep away. He’d never been much of a morning person. Nearly twisting his ankle as he staggered up the stairs proved that. He muttered curses under his breath, dragging a hand along the wall to keep his balance. _What bloody time is it?_ he thought.

He popped open the bathroom door without even thinking about it, and was greeted by two wet and very naked bodies pressed against each other snogging. He let out a little, startled yelp, his brain not capable of processing that much information while half asleep.

“Fuck! Sorry. Sorry!” he squeaked, still holding the door open for some unfathomable reason. He was staring at the baseboard on the wall and the little drops of condensation rolling down the paint.

He wanted to run back down the stairs, maybe die of embarrassment, but his body reminded him of the reason for coming up the stairs in the first place: he really had to fucking piss.

Arthur blushed a deep red all they way down his chest, and Dan just laughed uncontrollably. It was good to hear. It had been a long time since Keith had heard Dan laugh, truly laugh. Keith’s brain finally came back online, and he backed out of the bathroom, shutting the door as quickly as possible. He was left reeling, as he stood in the hallway alone. He was not homophobic—really he wasn’t—but _that_ was just not something he needed to see. His brother had always been unashamed about his own body in Keith’s presence, but it had been ten years since Keith had been exposed to that much skin. Hell, his uni roommates had barely walked around in anything less than towels or pants.

And now Keith was thinking about his old roommates naked, and his brother and Arthur naked. And his mind didn’t really know what to do because he couldn’t imagine kissing another bloke, let alone...

The door popped open and Dan poked his head out, a towel now wrapped around his waist.

“Sorry about that,” he said, scrunching his nose up a bit. “Thought I’d locked it.”

Keith felt like a small, bewildered animal. “It’s fine,” he said, “just, gotta piss, yeah?”

“Right,” Dan smiled and nodded very seriously. “Arthur, darling, you finished?”

Arthur came up behind Dan and affectionately wrapped his arms around his waist as he pressed a cheek to his shoulder, nuzzling it.

“Yes,” he said then looked up apologetically. “Really, sorry about that, Keith.”

“It’s not a problem,” Keith said in earnest. Because it wasn’t. He was just caught off guard. The two headed to their room, Arthur’s hand resting on Dan’s shoulder the whole way. Keith ducked into the bathroom, checking twice to make sure the door was locked behind him.

He was standing over the toilet, trying very hard to not think about anything that had just happened, but he couldn’t help but think of the way Dan had leaned back into Arthur’s arms just then. He could see the trust there, all the love in such a simple, comfortable gesture.

Fuck, Keith wanted that. He wanted someone like that: who would hold him, set him right, pull him together at the seams, and just love him. As much as he liked Jackie, he doesn’t think she did that for him. She was good to be with, but they were never that affectionate. He’d never really had a relationship where he felt completed by the other person. He hadn’t really had another relationship where he could depend on the other person at all. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to be serious, though. He just wasn’t good with girls. He didn’t understand them.

Keith washed his hands before heading to Dan’s room, wanting a chance to chat before his mum began her barrage of questions again. He knocked on the door lightly and entered when beckoned inside. Arthur was already dressed: starched shirt, pressed slacks, dark socks. He was just about to tie his tie.

“Darling, you don’t need the tie,” Eames teased. “We’re not meeting any clients.”

Arthur frowned briefly before reluctantly removing the strip of silk and laying it across the back of the desk chair. He ran a hand through his shower-dampened hair, pushing it out of his eyes. Dan was sitting on the bed in navy slacks and an unbuttoned, pale blue, paisley shirt.

“Paisley?” Keith asked. _Because really? Paisley?_

Arthur snorted. “See, Eames, even your little brother has better fashion sense than you.” Dan simply smiled back smugly.

“Why do you call him that?” Keith asked. The both of them blinked at him, confused at first, as if they didn’t understand the question. Keith elaborated. “You call him Eames.”

“Oh.” Arthur smiled, fondly. “It’s kind of an inside joke. It started on our first job together. We had aliases. Dan’s was Charles, mine was Ray.”

Dan chewed on his lower lip, looking at Arthur with such intensity that it made Keith suddenly feel like he was an intruder in the room, their gaze sucking the air out of the space and making it seem so small and nearly claustrophobic. Uncomfortably, Keith hummed to indicate that Arthur should continue. He didn’t understand what the names had to do with each other. Arthur dropped his gaze from Dan reluctantly, giving one last coy glance up through his lashes before turning to Keith to answer.

“Our extractor thought them up,” Arthur said, his hands moving pointedly for emphasis. Keith kind of enjoyed how Arthur couldn’t seem to speak without using his hands as well. “We played brothers; in the dream, Eames forged similar features to mine.”

“I asked what our roles were, and Eames made a joke about how it was obvious that we were clearly furniture salesmen bringing modern style to the dream. I said that a better backstory was that we were running an architecture firm. Both of us were just happy that someone got the joke. It went right over the rest of our team’s heads. That was the first time I knew there was something special about Dan. We ended up talking about industrial design, sculpture, architecture and modern art. I started calling him Eames on the job. It just stuck.”

Keith was going to have to Google that. He had no idea what any of that meant.

Arthur sat on the bed and slipped on his shoes. Keith watched as Dan’s hand rubbed a small circle on his lower back. The touch was so light and intimate, so comforting. Keith could remember just how good something like that felt. He remembered how Jackie would rub his shoulder after a particularly stressful day at uni. He was never as good at returning the favor, feeling so awkward anytime he wanted to touch her.

Dan caught Keith staring but didn’t pull his hand away. He did give him a questioning look, possibly searching for disapproval. Keith smiled.

“You know, I thought I was done being jealous of you.”

Dan’s look was genuinely puzzled. “Jealous?”

Keith gestured, ineffectually trying to convey that he should know very well what Keith was talking about. “You know. You were always so strong, and people never fucked with you. And you got great girls.” Arthur snorted again at that one. He did that a lot. But Dan was more serious when he responded.

“Keith, mate, my life was shit. Why in the world were you jealous of that?”

“You always had a girl, never got your arse kicked, did well with art, had a passion and a goal for your life. You were in rugby, and boxing ,and had a car. You seemed to have everything. I always looked up to you, wanted to be like you and as strong as you. I always wanted to trade places, just for a day.”

Dan stayed silent; the crease of his brow was furrowed in distress, or disbelief. After a long pause he spoke. “I got my arse handed to me in primary school. Went to the hospital even. Some kid found out I was gay, didn’t like it much.” Dan looked down at his hands in his lap. Keith watched his fingers spread out over his knee, the crooked angle of his pinky from that one fight when Dan was twelve or so. Keith remembered that Dan didn’t want their parents to know, kept his hand in his pockets, wrapped up when he could. Keith had kept his secret for him. Dan’s finger had never healed right.

“Surprised mum never told you that. She didn’t know the reason, though, I guess. I learned early to keep my mouth shut.”

Keith was taken aback. It seemed unfathomable that Dan had ever been a vulnerable person. For all Keith’s life, Dan had been a rock: absolutely unbreakable.

“I learned how to fight after that. Figured someone would find out no matter what I did. I didn’t want to be weak.”

“So you’ve always been gay?” It was a stupid question, Keith knew as soon as it left his mouth. Dan nodded.

“Your girlfriends?”

“They never did last long, did they?”

“I guess not.” Keith fidgeted with the loose thread on his t-shirt. He was just putting the pieces together. It made so much sense now. Not a single girl Dan had dated had lasted more than a month.

“Do you know how hard it is denying who you are? Not being able to date who you want, even if that person happened to like you back? Not allowed to enjoy a single moment of your life because you are afraid that someone will find you out?” Dan’s hands balled into fists and the familiar tension Keith had known returned to his shoulders. He continued quietly, the muscle in his jaw working during pauses. “You read about the kids who got beaten to death, or had to leave school just because they were queer. This town was too small, too close-minded.”

Arthur rubbed reassuringly at Dan’s neck, trying to soothe the bad memories away, but Dan didn’t relax. “And what would dad have thought? He was always pushing me, telling me how soft I was. So I lashed out a lot. I didn’t know how to do anything else.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered as he remembered all the times their father had berated them. He knew that for every time he had heard those words, that Dan had probably heard them twice as much, being older. He remembered how angry Dan had been, how all that pent up hostility had crested into violence on occasion. He wished he could have helped Dan. He wished he could have supported him, let him know that he would still be loved, no matter what.

He wished he could have protected his older brother from that pain somehow, so he says so. “I wish you would have told me. You didn’t have do it alone.”

Dan smiled sadly. “Yeah,” he said, shaking his head a little and shrugging. “Hindsight—”

“Boys, breakfast!” Keith’s mum’s call interrupted the rest of what Dan was going to say.

Keith hadn’t even noticed his parents get up, but now he could smell the bacon frying, and the sweet scent of eggy bread wafting through the air. Arthur gave Dan’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze and Dan’s hand came up to hold Arthur’s hand. Then he stood, pulling Arthur up by the hand to head downstairs.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me, little brother.” Dan said as he wrapped his arms around Keith’s head in half a headlock, half a hug.

“I could never hate you, Dan.” Keith poked at Dan’s ribs, struggling to free his face from Dan’s chest.

Dan released him as he said, “You’d be surprised how worried I was about that. Seems silly now.”

“Boys, don’t make your mother wait!”

Keith and Dan both flinched when their father called out, his tone much too harsh for the situation. Tentative worry flashed across Dan’s face again and Keith understood now. That anxious pain in his gut came back. His dad was tolerant yesterday, but he would always bide his time before becoming angry, or dishing out his disappointed lectures. Keith loved his brother just how he was. He will always love him. He wasn’t so sure about his dad’s opinion on that.

“So how long are you two planning to stay?” Keith’s mum said after they settled into their chairs. She was just finishing preparing breakfast, serving out eggs and sausage. Keith knew that the question was as much to find out when she might lose Dan again, as it was to gauge how many groceries she would need to pick up for the extra mouths to feed.

“We have a job coming up in a week,” Arthur answered. “I have to leave for it at the start, but Eames can stay until he’s needed.”

“Why would you need to leave before _Dan,_ if you’re on the same job?” Keith’s father questioned, emphasizing the name Arthur hadn’t used.

“I go in and set everything up. I make all the connections, secure a place to work, meet with the client, and hammer out the details, the finances, etcetera. It’s kind of a first one in, last one out kind of thing.”

Keith’s mum had served up food so Arthur spoke between bites, balancing between good manners and a hungry stomach with ease. He set his silverware down and wiped his mouth before finishing his answer. “Eames’ job is more specific. He’ll come in when I know more information.”

“So you basically take point?” his father said. He looked appreciative. Keith knew that he would like the amount of planning and responsibility Arthur had described.

Arthur nodded. “Yes, my job title is actually called ‘point man,’ in the industry.”

“What’s your job title, Dan?” Keith asked, eager to learn a little more. For how long they talked over dinner, they still had only gotten the basics of what dreamshare work was like. He didn’t know anything about what Dan actually did.

“I’m what we call a Forger.” Dan stated plainly. He leaned back in his chair comfortably after finishing the last bite of his breakfast. Keith thought this had to do with what Arthur had told him earlier, about the painting, but he couldn’t figure out why you would need a painter for dream work.

Before he could ask, his dad beat him to it. “So, what, you copy things? What is there to copy in dreams?”

Dan’s face twitched into a bitter smile at being interrupted. “Not exactly,” he said. “I become people. Like an actor, but with the ability to change my appearance completely.”

“Acting, hmmm?” Keith’s father scoffed. “Never could understand your artistic tendencies, Daniel. So what’s so important about acting in your field of work?” He bit off a piece of bacon and waited patiently for Dan to answer.

Keith wished his father would keep his disdain to himself. It was obvious that Dan was happy. It was obvious that he was doing well for himself, and had a relationship, and a career. So why did his dad have to take the piss out of it?

“Well, when we need to distract someone, it comes in handy. Or, when we need to gain trust, I can become a loved one or an archetype of a person the mark would open up to. It’s about manipulating the situation, making someone react in a way that I can use, thus ensuring a successful job.”

“Sounds needlessly complicated. Can’t you just force information out? It seems wrong to use someone’s loved ones as a device for manipulation; that’s akin to kidnapping and threatening someone’s family.” Keith’s dad’s set his fork down on his plate, sitting back in his chair with a disapproving scowl.

Keith wrung his hands together under the table. It’d been ten years, and in one day they were right back at odds with each other. It was like his dad couldn’t appreciate that Dan had grown up and had a life. It was as if his words from yesterday about not letting Dan leave again meant nothing, because he was certainly trying his best to drive him away now.

“It’s often the least damaging way to draw out sensitive information,” Dan replied. His tone was clipped. Arthur looked nervously between the two men as he placed a hand on Dan’s thigh.

“Doesn’t seem to me like you would care much about damaging someone with the kind of work you’re in,” his dad spat back.

“Don’t be unkind,” his mother tried to cut in, but Dan interrupted her.

“You know nothing of my work,” he hissed.

“It’s rather obvious that your dealings are less than legal, or else you wouldn’t dance around the details of your job.” Keith’s dad leveled a glare across the table, challenging.

“That they may be, but that doesn’t mean I like to see people suffer.”

“You’ve always liked to hurt people, Dan. Don’t lie to me. I remember how you were.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Dan growled.

“I know you’re a bloody poofter, who ran away, then took the first way to get out of service you could find because you couldn’t hack it. You’ve never been as hard as you thought you were!”

Keith’s dad was shouting now, which was uncommon for him. His anger was usually delivered with silent glares or condescending replies. Keith looked across the table towards his mum, but she was staring at his dad, a wide-eyed look of horror struck across her face.

“No. I’ve never been as hard as _you_ wanted me to be.” Dan leaned forward, index finger tapping the table to deliver his point. His posture was rigid and Keith could see Dan’s jaw clench, a former precursor to one of Dan’s violent outbursts.

Keith’s dad’s tone dropped dangerously low and quiet. “I always knew you were soft like a girl. Trying to make up for it with violence. Fistfights are nothing, boy. And I knew you were never cut out for the military.”

Dan’s posture kept hardening, like coal compacting into a diamond. He hadn’t lost any of his size since he was younger, had more bulk, in fact. Keith was a little afraid of the damage Dan might do if he lost control.

“Nothing I did could ever make you happy. I spent half my life trying to live up to your expectations. I gave up my dreams to try and impress you.”

“Your _dreams?_ What, your art? What kind of father would I have been if I had encouraged you to pursue something with no future? I was trying to guide you to a better life. I was trying to make you a better man!” His dad slapped the table and Keith saw his mum jump at the noise.

“A better life where I had to pretend I was something I wasn’t, yeah? Where I had to hurt people before they hurt me. Where I couldn’t be with whom I wanted, because god forbid I was gay in this shite town! You told me once, when I was young, how being a fairy was _‘worse than womanish weakness’_ and I believed you! You misogynistic asshole; do you know what it was like growing up knowing your father despised you?”

“You didn’t have to be gay, Dan. There were plenty of girls out there who would throw themselves at you. There was treatment. But you took the easy way out, ran away. You gave in. You always were weak.”

Keith saw Arthur go rigid. He had been trying to calm Dan down, trying to restrain him as much as possible, but with his dad’s last statement Arthur bristled. Keith saw every bit of a deadly nature in Arthur that he hadn’t picked up on before.

“Being gay is neither weak, nor curable,” Arthur whispered through gritted teeth. The menace in his softly spoken words was palpable. The hair on the back of Keith’s neck stood on end. He wanted to leave, but he was afraid that moving would set things off. He didn’t want to be the catalyst for a physical altercation. Memories, brutal little moments throughout his childhood popped into his head, and he instinctively recoiled from them.

He looked to his mother again, who seemed on the verge of tears. Keith knew exactly what she was thinking. She was thinking that she was going to lose her son again. Keith was going to lose his brother, and this time he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t sit back and do nothing as his family fell apart for the second time.

“Stop it!” Keith shouted. His father twisted his head towards him in disbelief. Keith had never yelled at them before, at least not with so much vitriol. He could feel his skin turning red with anger, feel his wrath rising as his brain rushed through a solution to this conflict. All he could come up with was an ultimatum, a threat to his father.

“If you don’t stop then you are going to lose both of your sons,” he said. “I will never forgive you if you run Dan off again. It’s the fucking twenty-first century.” His voice started to crack. “For Christ's sake … you love Dan. He’s obviously happy. Why can’t you let him have that?”

It sounded a lot weaker than Keith would have liked: no poignant statements to win with logic, no firm points playing to his father’s sense of duty or pride. There were so many angles he could have tried to exploit, but in the moment, he could only come up with the truth. If Dan left, Keith would leave too.

Keith waited for his father to respond. He wondered what he would do if his father decided that he didn’t want to end the fight. He couldn’t abandon his mother, but he might be forced to. Each second that passed had him doubting his decision speak out.

Then Dan reached over and placed his hand over Keith’s, delicately prying his fingers from their white-knuckle grip on the table's edge. Looking up, Keith saw how grateful Dan looked. Arthur was stroking his fingers calmingly along Dan’s other arm. Keith turned to reach his free hand to his mum.

They were connected, all of them silently supporting each other. Keith couldn’t help but think that this is what his family needed before: undeniable support, acceptance, and the promise to be there for each other. _It will be all right,_ he mouthed to his mother silently, though he wasn’t sure that was the truth.

Keith’s father shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He held his thumb and forefinger to his chin, lips pursed angrily and brows furrowed, breathing deeply through his nose. Keith saw him close his eyes briefly before he looked towards Keith, and then at Dan. Then he looked down, picked his fork back up and began eating silently. Everyone sat in silence for half a minute before Eames excused himself from the table. His mum began nibbling on the rest of her food, and after clearly giving Eames time alone to calm down, Arthur excused himself as well. Keith pushed his food around with his fork until his father and mother left the table.

After clearing the plates, Keith went upstairs. He hoped that he gave Dan enough time to cool down, but when he knocked on the half-open door, he found Arthur sitting on the bed, chewing on a fingernail as Dan stared out the window. When Keith approached, he could see the telltale jump of Dan’s jaw muscle as he ground his teeth.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Let’s go blow off some steam, yeah? I’m sure we can dig the punching bag out, hook it up in the garage.”

Dan turned and his expression was so severe, eyes flinting bright with anger, that Keith was thrown back in time, back to the day when his brother loomed over him, pressing a knife under his nose. His instinct was to go still, to gentle the beast, but Dan’s expression broke into something wounded and tired. Keith watched Dan’s shoulder sag before he nodded, murmuring, “Yeah,” under his breath.

Dan turned back toward Arthur and Arthur waved them off. “Go. I’ll do some work.” He leaned down a slipped a laptop out of a case.

It took a second before Dan moved, but then he dug around in his suitcase before pulling out a pair of gray sweats. “Go change, I’ll meet you down there,” he said. Keith left to change his clothes as well.

The punching bag was in the corner of the garage behind a few storage boxes and an old dresser. It was dusty as hell, leaving gray streaks across their sweats as they dragged it out and slapped it clean. Keith grabbed a rag from the workbench and gave it a once over before Dan hoisted it up and Keith hooked it to the chain in the ceiling. They both strapped themselves into gloves.

The first blow sent Keith rocking back. He shuffled to keep his footing as he held the bag. Dan hadn’t lost any of his strength. Keith widened his stance as Dan continued to pummel the bag at an alarming rate. After a good twenty minutes, Dan started to wind down, his chest heaving from exertion.

“You want a go at it?” Dan asked as he wiped sweat from his forehead. Keith was a little tired just from fighting the bag, but he nodded and Dan circled around. Keith took a few easy swings to warm up before trying to put any force behind his blows. He hadn’t boxed in years. He’d kept it up for a year or so after Dan left, but it wasn’t really his thing. Running was more his thing.

He stopped after a misplaced blow. Dan had been encouraging him with a few tips, telling him to use his whole body for the blow, but he was distracted. “I missed you, you know?” he said, dropping his gloves to his sides.

Dan’s stepped out from behind the bag. “Don’t think that I didn’t miss you too.”

“Why didn’t you ever call? You could have at least let us know you were alive.” Keith didn’t mean to sound as accusatory as he did.

Dan sniffed and chewed on his lip. “After the Legion, after Project Somnacin, I did a lot of shady work for very bad, very dangerous people. People who wouldn’t have any second thoughts of using my family against me.”

“So you were protecting us? And you don’t need to do that anymore?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve worked with people like that. Well, people who didn’t have so much power that they wouldn’t have found you anyway.”

“That’s _reassuring,_ ” Keith scoffed, but his smile faded when Dan didn’t laugh at the sarcasm. “But we’re all right, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dan said. He sounded sure enough to quell Keith’s worries.

Together they both take down the punching bag, tossing it back on the ground. The gloves go back in a box and they both head inside for some water. Keith claimed the shower first. He’d stripped off most of his clothes before hearing shouting through the closed door.

Frantically he pulled his trousers back on, darting out the door and down the stairs to follow the screaming. Dan was in their dad’s face, red with anger as he demanded, “What did you fucking do? What did you say to him?”

He was gripping a piece of crumpled paper, shoving it into their dad’s face. Keith didn’t think about it; he didn’t know why it was his instant reaction, but he grabbed Dan, pulling him away, trying to get between him and his father before the confrontation turned physical. Dan was a statue: solid and imposing, and nearly unmovable, but he managed to pull him back just enough to break his focus. Maybe he didn’t want to see Dan lose his control, lose all the work he’d put into becoming a better person.

Dan breathed out through his nose, eyes darting around the room wildly before locking with his father’s again. “You will not treat my partner like that. We’re done.”

He turned on his heel and marched upstairs. Keith was left staring after him. He glanced back towards his father before heading up the stairs after Dan.

“What happened?” Keith asked when he came into the room. Dan was throwing clothes in a suitcase, gathering Arthur’s laptop into a bag and searching around the room for any other stray items.

Dan paused and sighs. He actually looked more defeated than angry. “I should have known coming back would end like this,” he said. Bringing both hands to his face, Dan pressed at his eyes, rubbing at them irritably.

“Hey. It doesn’t have to end like this.” Dan narrowed his eyes skeptically. “No, really. You know mum and I love you no matter what. So anytime you want to see us, you come to my place, all right? I’ll bring mum up, and it will just be us. Don’t give up on all of us because of him.”

Dan smiled sadly and then looked down at the half-hazardly packed suitcase. “Arthur left?” Keith asked, but he already knew the answer.

“Went to the hotel,” Dan replied.

“Probably would have killed Dad had he stayed, huh?” Keith tried to joke. Dan actually smirked at that.

“You have no idea.”

Keith helped Dan pack the rest of his belongings and helped carry some of them down stairs. Their mum was sitting at the table, tapping a pen nervously. She stood when she saw them, eyes watery. Dan set the case he was carrying down and pulled her into a long hug.

“It’s not forever, right?” she asked.

“No,” Dan said. “Not forever. I promise.”

A few tears fell from her eyes, but she didn’t break down. Instead, she pulled Dan into a hug again, before going to grab her keys. “Keith can drive you,” She said as she handed the keys over to Keith. “I’m really sorry about your father.”

“Don’t apologize for him,” Dan groused. “I love you, okay?” She nodded and Dan gave her one last embrace before picking up his suitcase again.

The drive to the hotel was silent. Dan stared out the window as the passing houses, squinting through the sunlight reflecting off of the snow. He gave Keith a big hug and a hearty pat on the back when Keith dropped him off at the hotel.

“This is my number,” Dan said, slipping Keith a piece of paper. “It will change, but I’ll always let you know. You call me if you need to talk about anything.”

“That goes for you too,” Keith said. “I’m here for you. Always.”

Dan smiled and turned to go inside. Keith got back in the car. He took a winding, scenic route on the way home, thinking about the past, and the future. He wondered what types of jobs Dan would take, how long it would be until he saw him next.

But at least Keith had a way to contact his brother. A least Keith knew for sure that Dan was alive. And he thought of how far Dan had come, and how happy Arthur made him. As he drove he passed a couple holding hands on the sidewalk, bundled up against the evening chill. He wondered if there was someone out there for him, and then he thought of his brother, how miserable he’d been, but how he’d found someone in the end. It didn’t seem like such a faraway goal, if Dan could be happy, then surely Keith could. Maybe he had just needed his brother to show him the way, like he’d done before.


End file.
